
The sun rises on Istanbul from the Asian shore. I look from there too, from Üsküdar: at the water between two continents, the mist that covers it, and the first light that opens the day.
ScrollThe Bosphorus isn't a view, it's a breath. I don't try to stop it, but to catch the moment it flows.

When the fog descends the city disappears; what remains is only water, silhouette and the sound of a horn.

For twenty years I've looked at the same water from the same shore. Every morning is different; light, current and mist never repeat a single frame. That's why I'm still there at every dawn.
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